Between Her Mother and Her Lover
by Sadainea
Summary: How do you choose between the mother you never knew, and the lover you always wanted?
1. Chapter 1

A/N – Here goes nothing. Tell me what you think, and as always, I own nothing.

Minerva sat silently in her destroyed office. She looked around at the ruins of her bookshelves and desks. The war was finally over. Harry Potter had killed the Dark Lord at last. After almost a year on the run, he had returned to the school and ended it all. There had been casualties on both sides. Fred Weasley, Remus and Nymphadora, too many for Minerva to try and think of right now. She had too much on her mind. The 'Golden Trio' had survived. Never before had she felt such relief as when she had seen those Hermione step in with the rest of the order to stand at Harry's back. Minerva McGonagall loved all of her cubs. But none compared to the brilliant brunette.

Hermione Granger. Hermione McGonagall. Minerva thought back to the cold night when she had left her child with a kind muggle family to raise. " _the safest place for her."_ Albus' words rang back through her mind. He had been right, up until Hermione had come to Hogwarts and made friends with The Boy Who Lived. Her life had been wracked with worry ever since then. She also knew that Ronald Weasley had his eye on her and every time she saw him she felt like ringing his neck. He was not good enough for her little girl. Not nearly. She had watched her daughter grow up from afar for the last 18 years. No longer. The only question in her mind was, how do you introduce yourself to your child after being absent for so long? How did she explain to her daughter why she gave her up?

Larger and even bigger questions began to arise within her mind as she sat in the completely destroyed office. What if Hermione hated her? Or possibly even worse, what if she understood? How should Minerva react to that? Questions and thoughts and fears swirled through her head. She didn't even realize that the object of her thoughts had walked into the room and was watching her intently as she stared at the same spot across the room that she had been staring at for the last hour or so.

When Hermione walked over a knelt in front of her beloved professor, she knew something was wrong when the older woman didn't immediately look at her. She placed and hand on her mentor's knee. "Professor?" The woman in front of her jumped and her eyes snapped to the younger brown ones. "Are you ok? You aren't hurt are you?"

"Ms. Granger. No, no I am not injured. Poppy checked me over before I left the hall. Are you alright?" Her hand rose to cup the soft cheek of her favorite pupil. She had done this often over the last 7 years and thought nothing of doing it now.

"No. I'm ok. When I didn't see you after the battle I thought I might come check and make sure you were alright."

"Of course. I apologize for not seeking you out. I should have thought that you would worry." Minerva stood and held out her hand to the younger woman. "Come. I do believe that most of my private rooms remained undamaged. Would you care for tea? And perhaps I could find my ginger newts somewhere in the mess that is my classroom. I hid them in my desk to keep a certain Gryffindor out of them." She smiled and raised a single eyebrow at the blushing brunette who chuckled softly.

The two made their way through the rubble and debris towards the older woman's rooms where, true to Minerva's prediction, it was almost completely untouched. Rubble had been shaken from the walls and several books and shattered trinkets scattered the floor, but there was no true damage. Hermione smiled up at her mentor who, with a wave of her wand, had banished the dust and stones from the couch and lit a fire in the fire place.

"Have a seat, Miss Granger. I shall see about those ginger newts." Minerva disappeared through a door and Hermione sat looking around the room that she had been in many times. She noticed a book lying on the floor in front of her and picked it up. As the pages shifted, a photograph fell from within. Curious finger lifted it from the ground and looked at it. A younger, tired looking Minerva was holding a baby, a newborn. She smiled up at the photographer, though there was a sorrow in her eyes. The child was fast asleep against her mother's chest.

So caught up in studying the picture Hermione jumped when the door to the room closed again and Minerva walked towards her. She noticed the picture in Hermione's hand and stopped.

"Professor I'm sorry it-it was in the book. It fell out when I picked it up I didn't mean-" Minerva held up her hand and Hermione silenced herself immediately.

"It's the only picture I have of her." The older woman whispered. "Albus took that photo. It was only two days later that I had to give her up for her own safety. Albus helped me find a kind family to take her in, one that we were both certain would love her unconditionally."

"I'm so sorry professor." Hermione whispered.

"It was her best chance." Minerva said. Shaking her head. "If she had stayed with me she would have been a target for Voldemort's followers her entire life." a single tear slipped down her face.

"Do you know where she is now?"

"Of course I do. I have watched her grow up from afar and I have loved her every minute of her life. I only wish I knew how to tell her the truth now that she is old enough to understand." Minerva sat down next to Hermione and watched the fire.

"I'm sure she would understand. You have very valid reasons for giving her to someone else to raise. She would have spent her entire life looking over her shoulder and doubting who to trust if you hadn't. I'm sure it was better for her that way." Hermione put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"I hope you're right Hermione, because I do plan on telling her now that the war is over. Now that we are all safe." Minerva sat back against the cushions on the sofa and smiled, patting her protégé's knee. "But enough of that for now. Tell me about the last year. You sneaked into the ministry? And broke into Gringotts? Please tell me the Prophet was speculating."

"Well…."

A/N – Ok. There you have it. Chapter one. Tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione walked along the edge of the burned out quidditch pitch early the next morning. Her mind wandered through the memories, every horrific one of them, like a muggle scary movie on fast forward. She rubbed a hand over the slightly raised scarring on her arm. The wound no longer hurt, but she would always feel it. She could still smell the scent of Bellatrix's hair as it brushed over her face. She smirked to herself at the rather foolish thought. Of all the things to remember, the smell of her hair was not the first thing that she thought she would have remembered so vividly. When she closed her eyes she could still feel the soft curls caressing her nose, and smell the sweet musk of her natural scent. She supposed that her mind had focused on the woman's hair to distract her from the searing pain in her forearm.

As distracted as she was by these thoughts she didn't hear the person approaching behind her. It was the gentle hand on her shoulder that brought her out of her musings, rather touch startled her and she leapt away from the intrusion. A throaty chuckle was her only response. She spun around and came face to face with the instructor of the only class she had ever not done well in.

Madam Hooch was standing just behind her, the look on her face reflected her amusement at seeing the younger woman levitate. She held up both hands, noticing Hermione's hand had gone for her wand, though she still laughed. The brunette witch glared at her and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm sorry," the older woman said quietly. "I didn't mean to startle you. Forgive me."

Hermione deflated some. "It's alright. I suppose everyone is a bit jumpy. Not all of the Death-eaters have been accounted for. We still have to be careful."

Hooch nodded. "Very true. So why are you out here, all by yourself, when you know it isn't safe?"

"I wanted to be alone." Hermione shrugged. "I needed some time to think."

Again Hooch nodded. She waved her hand and invited Hermione to continue her walk. "I'll leave you alone then. Just don't wander too far. I think your favorite professor might skin me alive if she thought i had let anything happen to you."

"You may join me," the younger witch whispered, "If you want to. I don't want it to sound like I am ordering you or anything."

"Thank you. I will join you." Hooch fell in step next to the younger woman. They walked in silence for a while as both were lost in their own thoughts of the war. Hermione continued to rub her arm and it caught Rolanda's attention. "What's wrong?"

Hermione met her eyes. Slowly, the brunette rolled up her sleeve to reveal the derogatory slur that had been cut into the skin, now healed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"It's ok. I don't mind talking about it really. It was war. A lot of people have worse scars than I do. A lot of people didn't make it. I think I'm just glad I did. Better to be grateful that it's over, and I lived through it, than to allow myself to wallow in the sorrow that comes with the end of a war. I survived, and that's what I hold on to. If I don't, I think I will crumble." Hermione smiled thinly. "Before my parents died, they used to tell me, 'If you feel like you are failing something, fake it 'til you make it, because then you will excel at it'. I kinda took it to heart. I still follow their advice everyday."

Rolanda smiled softly down at the smaller witch. "Well, you didn't do very well faking my class."

That made Hermione laugh. "Well, no, I didn't, did I?"

"If you ever want to try again, come and find me. Perhaps you would do better in a one on one setting. I can help you more than I could in the class your first year." Hooch stopped and faced the young woman.

"I would like that. Thank you. I will be returning for my last year, so I will be around. Maybe Saturdays, before lunch?" Hermione said.

"Where will you go for the summer? If your parents…" Hooch trailed off, not sure how to mention the death of the younger girl's parents.

"They're dead. It's ok. You can say it. Headmistress McGonagall has given me permission to stay here at the castle for the summer. I have my parents' house, but I am unsure whether I can actually go there."

"Perhaps if someone went with you, it would be easier."

"Maybe." Madam Hooch's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. Hermione giggled. "But maybe we should find some food first. I'm starting to get a little hungry myself."

Hooch smiled down at the young woman and gestured towards the castle. They walked side by side, laughing at the many times Hermione had slipped off her broom or stomped off in frustration back in her first year flying lessons. Neither of them noticed green eyes narrowing on them as they walked through the doors back into the castle. They spoke rapidly to each other about Hermione's many different adventures with the boys and laughed about Ron's blatantly apparent crush on her. Those green eyes never left them as they sat at a table together, neither willing to end their happy conversation yet.

Minerva was filled with a mild jealousy. Normally Hermione would have at least acknowledged her before sitting down and eating. This time though, she was completely absorbed in her conversation with Rolanda Hooch. How was she supposed to tell her daughter who she really was if the young woman was forgetting about her so easily to spend time with the flying instructor. Her grip on her knife tightened and she refused to look at the two women, missing the concerned glance from the younger of the two.

Hermione frowned when she noticed how tense her mentor was, and the fact that she was deliberately not looking at her. Concern for the older woman flooded her and she promised herself that she would go and find her friend as soon as they were done eating. For the time being though, she turned her attention back to Madam Hooch, listening intently as the older woman described a quidditch game to her.

"So, there I was, flying as quickly as my broom would allow towards the goal post when out of nowhere, Alexis Camp, the seeker at the time, comes across right in front of me and we both end up going end over teakettle into the sand. She landed first and i landed on top of her with my face pressed right into her bum. She didn't even blink, just looked at me and said 'Normally I'd make you buy me dinner first', jumps back on her broom and we still won the game. The school had to have a new quaffle made after that. I landed on it and it looked more like a pancake when I got up than a ball. The team never let me live it down." Hermione, who had been trying to stifle her laughter, choked on a grape and the flying instructor reached over and thumped her on the back. The two of them chuckled away at each other, enjoying each other's company and neither noticed the Scottish witch walk out.


	3. Chapter 3

The halls were finally quiet and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Too many people had stood around, crying and sobbing over lost loved ones. It dragged her tenuous good mood into the mud. She wandered aimlessly. No real direction in mind. She found herself down by the lake, a disillusionment spell keeping her from being seen as she slowly made her way back to the quidditch pitch. I was just after supper and the sun was beginning to set behind the stands. The young witch had always loved sunsets. They helped her remember that there was always tomorrow. That everything could be different when the sun came back up. What she hadn't expected was to hear Professor McGonagall arguing with Madam Hooch, and about her no less.

"...alone. She is not your responsibility."

"I never said she was. I just ran into her walking the quidditch pitch by herself and she invited me to join her. We talked a bit and then she suggested we get some lunch. That's all that happened Minerva, I promise." Madame hooch's voice was little more than a whisper, while Minerva's was just quieter than a yell.

"Why would Hermione have come out here to begin with? There are plenty of people that know her better than you up at the castle. She wouldn't have a purpose in coming to see you."

"She didn't come to see me specifically. She mentioned that she wanted to be alone," the flying instructor tried to reason with the transfiguration master.

"Then why did she invite you to join her?"

"Because I wanted to be alone, but at the same time I didn't. Madame Hooch was there without being loud or trying to get me to talk. She just walked with me. When we did speak, she didn't push for information, or anything like it. Harry and Ron have bugged me non-stop about what happened at Malfoy Manor and I didn't want to be forced into talking about it. Finally, I didn't think it was any of your business who I associated with, especially if those people are in your employ and have been your friend for a long time. I'm sorry professor, but I am of age. I can make my own decisions about who I do and don't speak with." Hermione had stepped into the quidditch pitch and was facing the arguing couple. She wasn't angry, but she was disappointed. Of all of the people today who had tried to make her do things or speak of things, or protect her from invisible dangers, she hadn't in a million years thought that Professor McGonagall would be among the Weasley's and Harry, Madame Pomfrey, and several of the St. Mungos healers.

"Hermione, dear, I didn't mean to meddle. I merely wanted to be certain that Madame Hooch-"

"Frankly, Professor, I don't care. It's been and long day, and I am sure it will be an even longer night. I have been questioned and cautioned to death and right now, I just want to sit with someone who doesn't give two figs about what happened to me or what we went through. I want to sit with someone who only cares about the fact that I lived. You have already proven that it isn't you. As stimulating as the conversation was, being interrogated isn't exactly what I had in mind. So please, just let me be, for now." Hermione turned and walked away. She refused to allow either of the instructors to see her cry. It was foolish to be crying over something so simple as an argument anyway. After everything they had been through, really?

The young witch wandered slowly into the Forbidden Forest her hand stuck in her pocket and wrapped around her wand. As much as she wanted to be alone, she didn't fancy being unarmed if she ran into a stray Death-eater or worse. With a single shudder, she took another form, her animagus form, which she had decided would be a good idea to have out on the run and had started learning how to do in her fifth year. A small, black tabby cat stepped from the place where Hermione the witch had once stood. She darted through the forest as quickly as her tiny legs would carry her.

The loud shriek of a hawk directly above her head stopped her, dead in her tracks. She shivered in fear, not wanting to be eaten, and shifted back into her larger, human self. The hawk, floated down out of the tree tops and, in a move reminiscent of McGonagall changing as she leapt from the desk in Hermione's first year, landed as a human. Madame Hooch now stood in front of her. The elder of the two witches said nothing. She simply held out her arm, offering her elbow for Hermione to take.

With a slight smile, the brunette accepted and was lead along an invisible path. They walked for almost an hour, changing directions several times as Madam Hooch seemed to be looking for something specific. Finally they came to a small clearing, in the center of which was a pond, fed by a bubbling stream surrounded by rocks, toadstools, lush green grass, and moonlight filtering in from the tree limbs above them. This place was peaceful and perfection. Hermione was in awe.

"Sometimes when I feel like I can't keep going, or I am so frustrated with everything that I want to cry, I come out here to think. Honestly though, it is a lot easier to find from the sky," the elder witch chuckled.

"It's beautiful," was Hermione's breathy response.

Madam Hooch watched the younger witch's face as she wandered towards the pond and knelt next to it, running her fingers through the water. It seemed to be without second thought that Hermione sat down a stripped off her socks and shoes, rolled up her muggle jeans, and stuck her feet in the water, sighing and smiling as the cool liquid soothed the aches in her legs and the sting from the many scrapes and bruises that dotted ther legs. With a grin, the elder of the two followed suit and sat down, sans sock and shoes, next to her brunette companion.

"I don't think I have ever seen anyone tell off Minerva like that," Madame Hooch bumped Hermione's shoulder with her own. "That was rather impressive."

"Do you think she is made at me? I didn't intend to be short with her. I'm just so tired and everyone keeps trying to tell me where I can and can't go and keeps telling me that I have to be careful when I leave the castle. The healers keep telling me that I have to talk about what happened to me at the Manor. I don't want to talk. I just want to sit, and stare into space and remember that we won. At least for a little while," in an unfamiliar act of familiarity, Hermione layed her head over on Madame Hooch's shoulder and sighed. "Thank you, Madame Hooch."

"Rolanda, and whatever for?" The silver haired woman out an arm around the brunette's shoulders.

"For being different than everyone else. For being here without being pushy."

"You don't have to thank me for that. While I agree that you should talk to someone, I also know how much being pressured about it can make you angry. I remember that much from the first war." She rolled up her sleeve and showed Hermione a similar scar to the brunette's own. "Bellatrix Lestrange caught me on a recon mission for Dumbledore. The Order showed up the next day and got me out, but I refused to speak to anyone for months. I know what you are going through, if it helps at all?"

The young woman's gaze was anchored to the scar in front of her. _Mud Lover._ With a deep, steadying breath the young woman rolled up her own sleeve and revealed the similar scar on her own arm. _Mudblood._ "She caught us sometime around Easter."

Rolanda placed a hand on her arm, covering the scar with her warm fingers. "Let's just sit, and enjoy the water. We can head up to the castle later. I put wards on this place years ago, so we are safe here."

"I don't think I want to head back up to the castle tonight. I am not used to sleeping inside anymore."

"Then we can stay here." With a wave of her wand, the older witch conjured two tents, complete with sleeping bags and pillows. "You don't have to do anything that you don't want to do, Hermione. When you feel upset, or like the world is closing in on you, come find me. I will help you."

"Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - I'M BAAAAACK!

When Hermione woke the next morning, it was to the chirping of birds and a small animal rummaging around near the edge of her tent. Peeking her head out, she smiled at the rabbit that seemed to de trying to dig something out from under her tent. Sunlight filtered through the trees and the sky above her was a clear, brilliant blue. The air she breathed in still felt damp and dew still clung to the grass around her. She stretched. Today was going to be a better day, she determined. Every day getting better than the last.

"Good morning."

The young woman squeaked and spun around, not expecting the voice that greeted her. A grinning Madame Hooch, _Rolanda,_ she corrected herself, was sitting between the two tents, on a log, pulling her boots on her feet.

"Good morning, Rolanda." The name felt strange on her tongue. _Strange in a good way_ , she decided, _but strange nonetheless._

"How did you sleep?" The older woman set her newly booted foot back on the ground and leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees and looking at the younger woman with a gentle stare.

"Honestly? I slept better last night than I have in a year. When we were out there on the run, I didn't really sleep much. We were always afraid that we would get caught if we stayed in one place for too long. One of us always had to keep watch, so sleep was interrupted and even when we could sleep, we were too afraid to close our eyes for fear of being discovered." Hermione pushed her hair away from her face and sighed. "I think I was exhausted enough last night and I would have slept on a rock." She chuckled humorlessly.

"I am glad that you are at least alright talking about it, though." Rolanda stood and walked over to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "If you ever feel like you want to talk about it, I'll be here. So will Minerva. We all care about you, Hermione."

"Thank you. I think I need to go apologize to Professor McGonagall for yesterday. I was a bit short with her and I shouldn't have been. She was just concerned about me and I snapped at her." Hermione hung her head. She really did feel bad about being nasty with her favorite professor.

Two fingers under her chin made her lift her head. Rolanda was looking at her with a kind smile. "Minerva will understand, Hermione. We are all stressed. It is normal for someone to lash out in situations like this."

"Either way, I should go apologize. She didn't deserve it."

"Let's go then. If we hurry we can make it to the Great Hall for breakfast. It's still rather early." The older witch offered the younger her elbow, just as she had the night before, and led the two of them out of the woods.

Hermione knocked softly on the door that led to her favorite professor's private rooms. She was half hoping that the older woman wouldn't answer. She hadn't been down at breakfast and, while Hermione was sincere about apologizing, she wasn't looking forward to it. Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, she knocked again, this time harder. She didn't have to wait long before the door swung open.

Professor McGonagall stood on the other side of the door. Red-rimmed eyes stared down at Hermione. The older witch had been crying. The younger felt as though her insides were being torn to shreds.

"Professor, I'm sorry." She started immediately. "I was angry, and upset. I took it out on you and I had no right to. Please, forgive me." She lowered her eyes to the floor and watched as the stones became hazy and unclear as tears flooded her vision. She heard her mentor click her tongue, tutting, and felt a hand under her chin raise her head for the second time that day.

Minerva opened her arms to the younger woman, waiting for her to choose to step into them. "Come here, dear." she whispered.

Hermione flung herself into her professor's embrace, clinging to her and sobbing into her shoulder. "I'm sorry." she whispered over and over. Arms like steel closed around her tightly, holding her gently against the firm body of her beloved mentor.

"It's alright, Hermione. It's alright." Was murmured over and over into her hair as the professor ran her hands over the young brunette's hair. The two slowly made their way into Professor McGonagall's rooms and the door closed behind them.

Sitting in front of the fire on the couch, Hermione smiled at her favorite teacher. "Professor I-"

"Call me Minerva, Hermione. You have earned that much."

Nodding, the young witch continued. "Minerva, then. I was wondering, why were you so angry with Madame Hooch yesterday? We were just talking and she was telling the truth. I didn't seek her out, we just happened to be in the same place at the same time. It wasn't anything-"

"Hermione!" Minerva chuckled. "Give me a moment to answer. You are right, I was angry with her, but not because she was with you. I think it was the same as you snapping at me. I was looking for someone to be angry at and Madame Hooch was the easiest target. I apologized to her when you ran off. Which, by the way, I was rather worried about you when you didn't come back to the castle last night. Where did you go?"

"I spent the night in the forest. I got rather used to sleeping outside while we were out there by ourselves." Hermione chuckled.

Minerva laughed with her and all was well between the two, to Hermione's mind. Minerva on the other hand knew, this was the perfect opportunity to tell her daughter about her true parentage. How should she bring it up? Would Hermione even want anything to do with her afterwards? She opened her mouth to speak the words, but nothing came out. Instead she called for a house elf, requesting tea and cakes for the two of them, settling herself back on the couch and deciding that there was plenty of time to tell her later. Why rush it?

A/N - WHAT?! Another update? *GASP* Looks like I might be back! HOORAY! As always If you read, please review! Reviews make the world go round! Love ya!

Special shout out to AndraKitty for listening to my random weirdness all the time!


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